


North Winds and Wrackspurts

by AlwaysVictory



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Drabble, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysVictory/pseuds/AlwaysVictory
Summary: Sam never forgets a face. He might forget a name, but never a face. When he sees her at a party, he knows he met her before . . .





	North Winds and Wrackspurts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for May's Roll-A-Drabble challenge at Marvelously Magical Fanfiction. 
> 
> Prompt: Sam Wilson + Luna Lovegood + Fake Dating 
> 
> Huge thanks to writing_as_tracey for beta reading, and helping me figure out the details and the title. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K.Rowling; The Avengers and all related characters belong to Marvel. I'm merely playing in their sandboxes.

 

 

Sam Wilson never forgot a face.

Not even someone he met for just a moment, not even decades later.

First time he’d met her was after he crash landed somewhere in the forested area of the Middle East. He’d been so badly injured that he’d thought he was hallucinating.

It had been a rescue mission gone wrong. One moment, he and his wingman, Riley, had been airborne. The next, his EXO-7 had been hit and he was falling, twisting and turning eerily in the air as he hurtled nose first toward the earth. A roaring wind filled his ears, drowning out Riley’s urgent shouts, sounds of weapons firing, and the drumbeat of his own heart.

He hit the ground, the impact shattering bones (or so he thought) and causing so much pain that Sam was surprised he didn’t pass out. That he was still actually _alive_. He drifted in and out of consciousness for what felt like an eternity, unable to move or to speak, only quiet moans escaping his lips.

And then he saw her, strikingly beautiful and radiant, with long blonde hair and pale silvery eyes. She muttered to herself something about secrecy, exceptional circumstances, and something called . . . wrackpits? Wrackfarts? Or was it wracksquirts? Just before he completely passed out, he thought he saw a white light coming out of a stick she was holding.   

When Riley had finally found him, he wouldn’t shut up about miracles, but Sam wasn’t so sure. He didn’t know how he was able to survive and actually _walk_ away from this type of fall, when he was _certain_ he’d be paralyzed for the rest of his life. Granted, he also had a grade 3 concussion, but was it really a _miracle_? Or was the young blonde he saw responsible for it? Was there even a young blonde in the first place, or did he dream her up? Was she merely the result of his concussed brain playing tricks on him? He didn’t have the answers.

For years, he simply kept all these questions filed away, hoping that one day they’d be answered.  

And they were.

It was after the whole world had learned about the Chitauri and the Avengers. After the Battle of Greenwich, when the Dark Elves had attempted to destroy the nine realms.

A new group of people—who called themselves witches and wizards—had emerged. New alliances had been forged. To celebrate them, Tony Stark threw a big party at the Avengers Tower.    

Sam was in the middle of a conversation with Steve, when she walked in, dressed in a midnight blue gown, her long blonde hair falling loosely over her shoulders and cascading down her back.

Sam nearly dropped the glass he was holding.

“Hey Sam!” said Steve, waving a hand in front of his face. “Are you still with me?”

Sam blinked a few times, thinking that there might have been something in his drink that was making him see things, but the blonde didn’t disappear. She seemed to be trying to politely ditch a guy who was a bit too forward.  

“Excuse me, Steve. I’ve got some unanswered questions,” he said, thrusting his glass at his friend and then purposefully striding toward the blonde.

Steve called after him, but it was drowned out by the loud music.

As Sam drew closer to the blonde, he heard her say, “I told you, I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah?” replied the tall, unpleasant man with a goatee. “Then where is he?”

Sam wasn’t sure why he did what he did next, but he put an arm around the blonde’s shoulders and said pointedly to the man, “Right here. Stop bothering my girlfriend, or you might end up with a broken nose.”  

“I—uh—don’t—uh,” stuttered out the man, seemingly at a loss for words. Then he threw a quick, “Sorry!” and was gone.

She let out a sigh of relief and looked up at him. “Thank you, sir—”

“Sam,” he said quickly, holding out a hand. “Just call me Sam.”

She shook his hand and smiled. “Luna. Pleased to meet you.”

“Again,” he added, still holding onto her hand.

A spark of recognition flashed across her features.

“Listen, can we talk?” Sam asked. “I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask. That is, if your real boyfriend wouldn’t mind?”

“Oh, I don’t have one,” she replied dreamily. “I lied in an attempt to get rid of that bloke, but I don’t think I was very convincing.”

Sam, somewhat relieved that he was in no danger of having his own nose broken—or worse—by her real boyfriend, offered her his arm. “Why don’t we discuss things over a drink?”

“Good idea,” she replied, taking his arm. “And I can tell you all about how I found you in that forest thanks to the guidance of the north wind and the wrackspurts.”

He looked at her with amusement. “Sure. You do that.”


End file.
